


The Lamb

by sorteparaplyer



Series: Kinkmeme Fills [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorteparaplyer/pseuds/sorteparaplyer
Summary: The Umbrella Academy is captured on a mission by a man who says he'll only let them go if one of them agrees to have sex with him. The natural choice is Klaus. He's been sneaking out for years now; they know it'll have the least impact on him.





	The Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for an [umbrellakink](https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/) prompt made [here](https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=178716#cmt178716)

_“Uh, what?”_

_“Isn’t that, like, super fucked up?”_

_“Do you think he’ll actually let us go if someone does it?”_

The man eases Klaus’ blazer over his shoulders. Slowly, as if the process of revealing his thin arms is unbearably titillating. He peels the sweater vest off with just as much relish. Loosens his tie and pulls it over his head. Carefully undoes every button on his white Oxford shirt. 

Klaus’ breathing becomes more and more ragged with every inch of skin that’s exposed. His eyes are already pricking with nervous tears. 

The man’s hands are on his bare skin now, palms skimming over his chest as he pushes the shirt off.

Klaus takes a deep, shuddering breath.

_”I mean, it has to be Klaus, right?”_

_“It wouldn’t be anything he hasn’t done before.”_

_“Plus he’s kinda hot, isn’t he, Klaus? You probably want to get with him anyway, huh?”_

The man unbuckles Klaus’ belt and undoes his fly. His schoolboy shorts fall down his thin legs and pool around his ankles. 

Klaus stares straight ahead at the wall, willing away the tremor in his body, as the man slowly removes his white briefs. 

A tap on his thigh prompts him to step out of the legholes.

The man kicks his shorts and underwear in the same direction as his other clothes. He makes no move to remove Klaus’ shoes and knee socks. Instead he takes a step back and looks Klaus over.

Klaus is fully shaking now, despite his best efforts to hold still. Tears are slowly leaking from the corners of his eyes. But he holds his chin up and resists the urge to cover himself. It had to be someone, he reminds himself. Someone had to do this so that they could all go home. Why shouldn’t it be him?

_“So it’s settled then?”_

_”Klaus is such a slut, I bet he’ll love it.”_

The man takes a hold of Klaus’ chin. He turns his head from side to side, appraising his features from various angles. “You’re pretty as sin,” he tells him. “But you look like you’re going to a funeral.”

“I’m scared,” Klaus whispers.

The man practically moans. “Fragile little thing,” he murmurs approvingly. “I can’t believe your brothers and sister picked _you_ for sacrifice.” He thumbs over Klaus’ cheek, smiling faintly as he admires him. Then he puts one hand on Klaus’ waist—holding him firmly in place, keeping him steady—and reaches the other hand between his thighs.

Klaus lets out a squawk, jerking at the sudden contact.

“Calm down,” the man tells him. “Let’s just see how tight you are.”

And then the man’s fingers are shoving into his hole, too many at once, forcing the ring of muscle apart with a burning pain that makes Klaus cry out. His hips buck reflexively as his body tries to squirm out of the man’s grip. Klaus grits his teeth. He tries to stay calm. But he feels the slightest twist of the man’s wrist and can’t help the whimper that escapes.

“Shh. Don’t fret, little lamb.” The man’s fingers continue to twist and prod, sending burning pain through Klaus’ body. “You be a good boy for me or all of you go to the slaughter.”

Klaus screws his eyes shut, determined not to cry, at least not yet. Another whine escapes from his clenched teeth.

“I don’t have to slaughter your siblings, do I?”

“N-no,” Klaus gasps. “I’ll be a—a good boy.”

“That’s good.” The man removes his hand from between Klaus’ legs. “I don’t think you’ve done this before, have you? Don’t worry. I’ll show you a time you’ll never forget.”

_”The club I went to last night was _wild_. I saw an orgy!”_

_“Klaus, what’s an orgy?”_

_“It’s something you’d know more about if you weren’t too scared to be like me and have some fun once in a while.”_

The man insists on bathing him afterwards. Probably so there’s no evidence on him if he were to go to the police. Not that Klaus would do that anyways. He doesn’t want anyone else touching him. Maybe not ever again.

He doesn’t like that this man is still touching him _now_, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He begins to sob all over again as the man lowers him into the tub and warm water engulfs his body. He’s too weak to do anything but hiss in pain while he’s washed.

The stopper is pulled and pink water goes swirling down the drain. The man actually pats him dry with a towel. Then he leaves him with a pile of his clothes. Tells him where to go to find his siblings and escape this place. He almost sounds wistful, as if he regrets that he has to let Klaus go.

Klaus takes his time dressing. It’s not just the pain wracking his body, it’s the idea of facing his siblings on the other side. It’s the idea of going home and acting like nothing happened, forever.

His fingers struggle with the buttons. He doesn’t even attempt the tie. 

Once he’s dressed, the blooms of darkening bruises are all hidden from sight.

_”You’re so cool, Klaus. I wish I was brave enough to sneak out and go fool around with people.”_

_“Ha, yeah, I… do that all the time.”_

Klaus shuffles into the room, silent, with his eyes on the floor. He closes the door quietly behind him. There’s a slight tremor still running through his body. He takes a breath and tries to still himself. No one in the room is talking; his siblings must have gotten bored of each other while they waited for him. 

He doesn’t know what to say to break the silence. He doesn’t even know what would come out if he opened his mouth.

Diego is the first to notice him. “Hey, Klaus!” he says. “That took forever, man.”

Klaus looks up at him, tries to make himself return Diego’s smile. He stops when he feels his face begin to contort into the wrong expression.

“Thanks for taking one for the team,” Five grins. “I can’t wait to say sayonara to this boring fucking room.”

“Dad’s gonna be impressed we got out of that so easily.” 

Of course Luther brings up Dad. ‘Impressed’ is the last thing he’ll be when he hears what Klaus did. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Luther adds, smirking. “I won’t tell him you got laid.”

That’s a relief, at least. Or it should be. Why doesn’t Klaus feel any sense of relief?

“Let’s fucking go home!”

Five throws an arm over his shoulder, companionable and comfortable. Except the sudden feeling of fingers so close to his neck makes Klaus shudder and flinch away. Reminds him too much of the way the man undressed him, how he told Klaus he’d kill them if he wasn’t a good boy. 

“Don’t,” he gasps, backing away from Five. “Don’t t-touch me.” His voice comes out sounding strained and hoarse. Like he’s been screaming, which he has. 

They would all be dead by now if the man hadn’t eventually allowed Klaus his sounds of pain.

He screws his eyes shut, trying to will away the sense memory of those fingers on his body, _in_ his body. The feeling of the fingers being pulled away only to be replaced with a pain that felt like his body was being torn open. 

“Klaus, what’s wrong?” Allison reaches out to take his hands. It’s something she’s done a million times, pulling him in to share a piece of gossip. This time Klaus yanks his hands away. 

He stumbles backwards until his back is against the door and then he sinks down, burying his face in his knees. He doesn’t want anyone looking at him. Not with worry. Not with disgust. Definitely not with want.

Suddenly he can’t even think, can’t breathe. They’re too close to him, too close and looking at him with too much scrutiny. Like the man had done as Klaus stood there in his knee socks. Like he’d done when he was finished and Klaus lay bleeding on the bed.

He can’t fucking breathe. 

Ben kneels down beside him, careful to give him a little space. “It’s okay, Klaus,” he says, firmly but gently. “Just breathe. You’re okay now.”

Klaus shakes his head. No, Ben’s got it all wrong. He’s _not_ okay. 

“Just listen to my voice, okay? Hear my voice, Klaus?”

Klaus nods, slowly. 

“Are you ready to go home, Klaus?”

Another nod.

“Then we need to get out of here. We need you to come with us. Okay?”

Klaus sucks in a breath. He wants to go home. Another deep breath and then another. He wants to shut himself in his bedroom and never leave.

“You’re doing good, Klaus,” Ben says in his sweet, gentle voice. “Can you stand up?”

Klaus shakily pushes himself up. He cries out when the gusset of his shorts brushes his bottom. 

“You’re hurt, Klaus?” Allison makes an aborted attempt to move in towards him. Her palms are raised to him, as if she can’t reconcile her need to hover with his need to have space between them.

“I’m fine,” he grinds out. He stands up a little straighter, though the motion pulls a wince from him. Allison looks unsure, but she steps back all the same.

Now that he can breathe he feels the pressure to act blasé returning. He settles for an affected disinterest in looking any of them in the eye. Maybe they’ll accept that he’s okay and they’ll finally go home. God, he just wants to go home.

“W-w-what was th-that, Klaus?” Diego pushes out.

“A panic attack,” Five says. 

“Over what?” Luther inquires. “What’s your deal, Klaus?”

Klaus looks up at him then, sees the burning judgement in Luther’s eyes. Luther, who had called him a slut and gleefully sent him off to be raped. Luther, who has no idea what he’s just been through.

It’s infuriating. It makes Klaus feel so, so angry and at the same time so terribly helpless. He can’t help it; he begins to cry. His body is shaking again as he presses his hands to the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I-I didn’t want it,” he gasps. “Don’t you fucking get it? I didn’t want him to do that to me.”

“B-but. We thought you did,” Diego says, eyeing him warily. “You volunteered.”

“_You_ volunteered me!” Klaus spits. He glares at Diego with wet eyes, glances around at the others. “All of you did! And none of you cared what he would do to me. You acted like I would _like_ it.”

“Y-y-you n-never said anything,” Diego counters in a rush. Klaus can tell he’s desperate to foist off the blooming guilt he feels, to find a way to avoid responsibility for hurting him. And yet he’s still hurting him by trying to tell Klaus it’s his own fault. “Why’d you agree to it if you didn’t want to?”

“To save everybody,” Klaus whispers. “You all picked me, I… didn’t want to argue.” He hates how small his voice sounds, like he’s a child who’s been caught by his teacher. Maybe it _is_ his fault, he realizes. He should have told them he didn’t want it. He should never have let them believe he was a willing slut. 

“Oh.” Diego is quiet then, and Klaus assumes he’s satisfied that the blame has been shared out among them. 

He knows as well as they do that he was always the natural choice. He knows exactly what they think of him, and he knows that he deserves it.

“Sorry, man,” Five says quietly.

“It’s okay,” Klaus says. 

“I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad,” Luther says. “Come on, Klaus, how does he stack up in your experience?”

“Stop it, dumbass,” Allison hisses.

Klaus scowls at him. “I’m fifteen. Exactly what kind of _experience_ do you think I have?”

“You’re always talking about sneaking out to have wild sex at parties.”

“I don’t— What that guy did to me wasn’t _wild sex_, okay? That was…” The word balances on the tip of his tongue before he closes his mouth and swallows it down. His indignant anger fizzles away with it, leaving him feeling defeated and hurt. “That was different,” he says, his voice small. “And I never said I have sex at those parties.”

“Klaus…”

Klaus blinks, feeling tears rim his eyes again. “I was a virgin,” he says quietly. “That was my first time.”

Luther actually looks taken aback by that. “Shit, Klaus,” he says. “We didn’t know. We thought—”

He wipes his eyes and shrugs a shoulder awkwardly. “I know. It was stupid to let you think… I was stupid. I deserved what he did.”

“N-n-no, K-Klaus.”

“No one deserves that.”

“We should have asked you. We should’ve thought it through.”

They all crowd in again, though it seems they’re being careful not to come too close. Still, the weight of their gazes feels too heavy, makes him feel caged and uncomfortable. “It’s fine,” he says awkwardly. “It’s— I just want to go home.” He looks up at them, afraid of what he’ll see on their faces. Judgement, condemnation, disgust. Instead they just seem worried about him. 

It feels strange. He’s reached out to them for help so many times only to be brushed off. They’ve ignored him more fervently the harder he’s tried to be noticed. Pushed him away as he tried to wheedle closer. But it seems like maybe they’re here for him now.

If he could stand to be touched he’d want them to hug him. 

Maybe when this is all behind them.

“Let’s take you home, Klaus,” Allison says gently.

He nods, but he’s really not sure he can make it that far. He’s tired and he aches, and he feels like he might still be bleeding.

“I could carry you,” Luther offers. “I know you don’t want to be touched, but. If you’re hurt—”

Klaus nods again, a little surprised that Luther would offer. “That would help,” he says. “Uh, thanks.”

Luther scoops him up, and he’s so gentle with him that the pressure on his bruises barely hurts. Klaus wraps his arms around his neck, more for a place to put his hands than anything. “Okay?” Luther asks.

“This feels awkward.” Klaus laughs lightly. “But yeah.” He and Luther are more or less the same size. It feels like it shouldn’t be possible for Luther to carry him, even though he knows it’s nothing to Luther. He’s a little grateful for the absurdity of it actually. If it had been someone bigger than Klaus, he’s not sure how he would’ve reacted to it.

“We’ll be home soon,” Luther says softly. Klaus recognizes it as his attempt to comfort him.

“Thanks,” Klaus says again, and he means it.


End file.
